


Swollen

by JValentine0



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Erotica, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 13:35:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30056271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JValentine0/pseuds/JValentine0
Summary: Everyone can use a distraction now and then.
Relationships: Albert Wesker/Brad Vickers
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	Swollen

Jill Valentine's house was packed to the brim on a typical Saturday night. Another party, it was a chance to cut loose. Music blared from the speaker system as people made idle chatter. Bottle caps tossed in the trash, Chris wove through the crowd before offering a beer up to a shorter man. "I'm surprised you made it," he yelled over the noise.

Leon smirked. "I'm leaving for training again in a few weeks. I thought I should see you before falling off the face of the Earth for a while."

In the kitchen, Jill was pulling the trash bag from the bin. "I don't know, Brad. I don't think I'd be much of a crew chief."

"If you don't learn it, I'm going to be stuck with Joseph at the heliport," Vickers groaned, nail picking at the label on the bottle in his hand. "Last time he flew with me, he busted ass so bad I almost put the bird in the side of a mountain."

Jill just laughed.

"C'mon, be a pal. Joseph's diet of chili in a can is a threat to everyone in the office already."

Tying off the trash, she replaced the bag. "Alright, I'll talk to Wesker next week. I promise. Try to mingle a little."

Vickers sighed but relented, gone back into the sea of bodies. Most of these people were total strangers. He ran into Chris, but Redfield looked busy with company. Brad was quick to excuse himself to the front porch. The night air was cool and welcoming, crickets singing in the dark while the drone from within was at his back.

_I hate these parties…_

It wasn't the people. He got along with just about everyone in town who crossed his path.

_I'm just an outsider. I don't drink like it's a sport, either._

He left the bottle on the railing as he began fishing his car keys out of his pocket.

* * *

Jill's chair swiveled around on Wednesday. "Soooo… He said he likes the idea. We just need to find the money to make it happen."

Brad smiled. "Awesome. Thank you, again."

"Glad something turned that frown upside down. You seem down lately," Jill commented. "You disappeared during the party too."

"Yeah, I just had a lot on my mind. That's all."

Valentine's brows knitted. "She never called you back?"

Brad shook his head. "I don't think I want to date anyway. I need a distraction, not a relationship." He jumped when a stack of files was dropped on his desk, wide eyes seeing themselves in the reflection of a pair of sunglasses.

Jill rolled her eyes when the Captain departed without a word. "From the looks of things, you're not the only one who needs a distraction." She pulled half the stack off the top, putting it on her own desk before getting to work again.

Brad watched the blond disappear into the office adjacent to the row of desks, blinds pulled shut.

* * *

"Well that was a shit show!" Forest growled, slamming the door to his locker shut. Drying off his hair one last time for good measure, he tossed the towel into one of the laundry bins. "Hey Brad, I'll sign off everything later."

"Uh-huh…" Vickers was distracted, fingers tapping away at the keys on his laptop on the bench. He was behind on reports and late getting back upstairs to turn in his flight log already. No time to talk. Tap, tap, tap.

Hands clapping on shoulders, Forest leaned in. "Don't work too late, buddy. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, sure okay…" Still distracted, Brad's eyes never left the screen.

The door closed with click behind Forest only to open again seconds later. A long shadow passed Brad on the bench. He didn't seem to notice. Not until someone cleared their throat. Looking up, his entire expression dropped. "Hey Captain."

"We have desks upstairs for a reason, Bradley," Wesker replied, popping his locker open. Vest hung on a hook within, his wallet went in after. Empty blue eyes, bare to view, drilled their gaze right into the man on the bench with a glance.   


"Oh… yeah, I know. I just got busy."

"You're always late. For work, missions, turning in your reports," Long fingers began working down the buttons on the front of the dark blue shirt he still wore.

"I'm working on them right now, Captain. I'll have them turned in before I leave," Brad offered, hands folding in front of his face. His knee bounced, a nervous habit he could never hide.

The captain looked at him for the longest time, dark blue shirt half unbuttoned.

Brad was about twelve shades of uncomfortable, blinking.

_What the hell is he looking at?_

It drove Brad nuts how the man didn't seem to look at any of them. It was always through them. Even with those sunglasses it felt like being under a microscope. Maybe he was just imagining things. Jill told him to ignore it. He tried, eyes back down to the screen and a finger moving the ball to push the arrow to exit out of the program.

Wesker came out of whatever was going on in his head, finishing off the buttons of his shirt. A white shirt beneath was revealed, hugging his trunk tight. "Be sure to…"

The door to the locker was gingerly shut moments later, Brad's eyes peering up just in time to catch a glimpse of the captain heading for the showers with nothing but a towel over his shoulder. "Yes sir..." His eyes veered right back down to the screen, air sucked in sharply. He knew better than to let his gaze wander normally. Wandering it over the captain? No. No way. He dared a glance up when water began to run.

The stall in his view was empty, water cascading from the showerhead.

_Weird._

He clicked open another file, trying to find a document. The screen taking its sweet time to load, Brad looked up again.

Turned away, Wesker stepped into the shower and let the water run over his body. He slid his hands over his form, care given to the trunk and hips. Completely soaked before he reached for the soap and lathered, impossibly long fingers ran suds over a pectoral. The same soapy hand ran the length of a flat stomach, eyes closed as his head tipped back to douse in the spray.

Brad inhaled sharply, gaze clicked back to the screen. Girth uncomfortably pinned against his fly, the brunette shook his head. "Stop…" He whispered to himself. The document open, his stare drifted once more.

Wesker was looking right at him.

The brunette froze.

The S.T.A.R.S. captain smirked. Hands still running over his form, the blond held him there with his empty but intense stare. Even without a word spoken, he demanded to be looked at. More soap, he washed himself thoroughly, though leaving the heavy rod between his legs untouched. Slow and methodical, he worked a heavy lather before turning into the spray, giving his back to Brad. Hands running over shoulders and sides soon went for his back down to a well toned ass.

_Is… he trying to tease me?_

The answer came quickly, fingers soaping and spreading, dipping digits inside of the cleft. With his back turned to the water, those same hands slid down the slopes of his Adonis belt. Soap slicked beneath his balls, he made his heavy cock bounce.

Brad just closed the laptop. There was no point in trying to pretend this wasn't happening right in front of him. Fingers steepled soon ran down his bright red cheeks. "Oh God.. Is this happening?" He whispered to himself. Not that he hadn't thought about it.

_I shouldn't have._

He had thought about it. Out of everyone, this was who his mind had wandered too frequently when alone. Maybe it was the mystery of the man who was the biggest question mark he'd ever encountered. Or… maybe he was just bored and horny and sick of watching Baywatch.

"Brad?"

Blinking, Vickers looked up. "Uh… Sir?"

Water droplets clung where they weren't dripping off the man towering over. "Did you see something you wanted?"

Clearing his throat, Brad felt like he was sitting in flight school again trying to memorize limits only for anxiety to blank out everything when asked. Warm brown eyes veered down the man's soaked form and then back up to his face.

Some things didn't need to be said.

An amused sound escaped the older man. "Well, if you want that… You're going to need to wash up too."

The pilot's cheeks burned.

_Is it too late to go walk into oncoming traffic?_

"Unless you don't want to."

That snapped him out of panic. "I--NO! It's not that."

A lightly colored brow lifted at the confession.

"It's just… You. I…"

Albert's eyes rolled. "I'm flattered and now bored. Get in the shower before I just leave you here with that hard on."

Knees closing, Brad inhaled through his nose. "Yes, sir."

Before he knew it, the brunette had shucked his clothes and discarded of them on the bench. Definition hugged his form even in that light. He had never been the slimmest in the bunch but that never mattered to him. A hand reaching to touch was snatched at the wrist by the taller man. 

"Hands off. You'll touch me when and only when I give you permission to." Wesker stated. There was no flash of anger, no barking orders, just calm and collected. A switch had been flipped, and it was apparent in the way the man released that wrist and dared to brush back strands of brunette. "I want you to wash yourself. Do be thorough for me. I will be watching."

Brad swallowed hard, eyes wide. "Yes sir." Hand dropping away, he slipped around Wesker and headed for the shower still running. Warm water greeted him, cascading down as he reached for the bottle of soap left behind. He kept his gaze up, front toward the dials as he began working a rich lather between his hands.

_I have to be hallucinating… Bad coffee. Something._

He dared a glance over his shoulder.

Wesker watched with rapt attention, leaned against the doorway. Simply staring, openly, his expression was different. Thoughtful. Lascivious.

_He couldn't possibly…_

"Show me."

Pivoting, the man did as he was told. Slow circular motions followed, down his front and past the hair trailing from navel to below. Rich foam slicked over his girth, the memory of just what he had witnessed before filled his mind. Free hand wandering back, to the puckered skin between, he let out a sigh.

The hunger that seemed to lurk beneath the frost worked itself to the surface. "Slower." He denied himself a touch even as his cock stood rock hard and erect. His shaft was slightly curved upward, the tip peeking from his sheath, slick at the slit as he watched, lips parted, his blond hair disheveled and his fingers twitching to reach and touch but he did no such thing.

Brad's hand paused, then trailed from sack to sternum in a slow drag as he turned. His stare went right back to the wall, uncertainty scribbled itself across his face. Flushed, both hands slid down to his ass, kneading circular motions. The thought of being watched was less agony, more thrilling.

"Finish up. Don't go anywhere." Wesker gave the order softly, off the wall and disappearing around the corner.

_Where would I go right now? I'm naked._

It felt like a lifetime standing under the spray. Fingers worked unruly strands under the water before rinsing away any bubbly white still on his body. He turned around, washing off the rest only to find himself face to face with the blond. Lips fused, he could feel the scratch of a five o'clock shadow on his chin from the tall blond.

He tasted sweet of peppermint. The taste was enough to induce a groan.

Long fingers pushed wrists to the tile when hands dared a touch. Even teeth tugged before Wesker spoke harshly. "I said no touching."

"Sorry. Sir." Brad didn’t dare look away from him. His own hardening cock twitched.

"Now, you're going to get me nice and slick. Do you understand? You have something now that I want to use. I think I deserve to since you had a wandering eye…" His hips ground, body flush with the form he had pinned against white tile.

Brad's lips were indifferent at their edges, then one curled briefly. "Yes, sir…" His arms free, space between them allowed just enough for him to sink to his knees. No touching. He didn't dare to use a hand to guide the heavy and upturned organ into his mouth. Instead, he took his time lavishing the head with tongue and lips until said lips wrapped around the bulbous head. Thicker than expected, he was slow to suck, long trails of saliva left to shine in his wake. Practically milking the solid rod with his mouth, the brunette drew back to flick his tongue against the sensitive skin under the head before swallowing all of it down once more. He ached for more, and it was plain to see.

Head canting, the blond stared down and watched, feet rocking off and on heels. Icy blue eyes searched that face so low to him, wide brown eyes focusing their stare up. Wesker's girth twitched pleasantly. "What a starving animal you are…" He whispered, hips rocking just a touch. Backside clenching, those heavy balls drew up and then relaxed. Pre drooling from the tip was gone in an instant as a tongue swirled over. "Stand up, turn around," he said softly, the words echoing in the shower.

The brunette obeyed, cheek against cold tile. His eyes slid shut when he felt hot breath along his ear.

"If you touch me, I will stop and I will punish you in the worst ways possible…" Something warm and slick was over his fingers, the pair dipping to find a tight pucker. One slipped in. The gasp escaping as the second worked its way in brought an upturn to the corners of Wesker's mouth. "Don't test my wrath, Bradley…" Cock trapped in the cleft of cheeks, the sharp line of his nose ran where he pleased. He ground his hips against Brad's backside, cock trapped in the cleft of cheeks.

Cold air sucked in as a huff, the shorter man's hands went to the wall. Warm water cascaded his form, freely running over muscle. "Yes sir…" He walked a foot out, water splashing soon running straight down the drain. He felt more exposed than ever, even with his back shaded in a towering form.

Knees wide, the blond lowered his hips, a sway in his back as he poised that heavy cock to slide against a tight pucker. He paused as air was blown out, long fingers running over the nape of a neck below a clean brunette hairline. He curled his hips again and again, bowing his back before he caught the dip and pressured with the slicked tip. "There you are…" He whspered and hissed, pressing himself gently while empty blue eyes caught a glint of a stare back at him. "Don't be shy…" His hips jerked and he sank inside. "I want to hear it all…" Rocking his hips again, he pressured deeper with such a surprisingly even headed pace for a chilly individual.

The brunette's teeth showed themselves briefly, a deep moan bringing his jaw to drop. Huffing softly, he whined when a firm hand teased over his trunk and below. Hooded lids wreathed in droplets drew back only to fall shut again when the firm body was pressed flush with his own. Every stroke brought another moan or gasp from Brad. "Fuck…" He cursed under his breath.

Sank to the hilt, Wesker seated himself there only to pivot well sculpted hips to stir himself, to stimulate. Grinding against the other man, his sack pressured against the ass he had let his stare fall over. His body rolled, from shoulders down to hips in an arching wave. Again, and again, water trickling down all the while he stroked himself with pivoting thrusts; slow and churning. "How's this for a distraction?" The edges of a normally flat mouth curled up when a low sound escaped the shorter man. "I'll take that as praise…"

Brad visibly shivered when those impossibly long fingers coiled around his aching girth, working him over. Clear pre beaded and then leaked freely. His mind was swimming. "You feel incredible…" He confessed, eyes rolling shut with the cock raking over his prostate with expert precision. Face flushed dark, he shuddered when the girth's head brushed firmly over just the right spot again. His head tipped back easily when fingers snaked into the strands there and pulled back.

Wesker picked up the place just a touch, hips angled upwards. His free hand was a greedy thing, sliding and exploring the body under him as he pleased. "Bench. Now." He ordered.

Brad almost stumbled in the process of following. The laptop was skirted into his locker and he was flat on his back in seconds. He breathed out when filled to the brim again, hands gripping the bench above his head. He moaned openly now, the sound reaching all four walls easily in its ragged tones. Bated breath, his eyes almost rolled to the back of his head. The aching rod flat against his stomach begged for release in throb and color. He pushed the desire down.

An arm snaked under hips, lifting them off the bench as Wesker bore down on him. One knee on the bench, his stare was fixed, intense and hungry. Holding the brunette's hips with one arm, he continued to roll his body and rock into him. The pace was slow and steady, restrained and controlled. With his free hand, hunched over the other's form, he brought his fingertip to the underside of Brad's cock. Touching at the root, he slowly and carefully traced a line up the vein of the rod. Such a light touch caused the length to twitch and throb. Even and white teeth appeared in a cruel grin, admiring his own handiwork at the disaster under him of ragged moans and gasps escaping the arching form. Nothing could be held back now. Those fingers once more wrapped and stroked. "Cum for me."

Desperate and ready to burst, the brunette cried out. Balls tight, he boiled over as the throbbing length of his released its load. Ropes of pearly white doused long streaks over his stomach. Asshole clenched around the thick girth, muscle along his legs burned in a clench. Fingers squeezing the wood of the bench, pitiful little cries dotted his breath, hips bucking in the aftershock of stimulation. A pounding heart was in his ears, sweat and euphoria clinging to his skin.

Wesker worked into him through the orgasm. Arms wrapped around hips, ass cradled right into his lap, the blond laid into him hard and fast. Pushing through that clenching tightness that threatened to make him release too soon, he bent his head down. Tongue dragging over a line of glistening pearl that spilled across a toned belly, Wesker's own breath became labored. Sack drawn up tight, his desire to spill came rushing upon him faster and faster.

"God, you feel so good…" The words tumbled out unexpectedly from Vickers.

That was all it took to shove him right over the edge. Wesker's hips thrusted a few more times before he hit once, then again, and a final time. Teeth raked and clenched as he bit down. His own body trembling as his cock jumped and pulsed, seed slung deep inside.

The brunette sucked his air in sharply as teeth pinched skin. He sighed when teeth released him from their clutches, a haze crawling over him at long last. He looked up at nothing, blinking slowly. The only focus in his head was the twitch of the girth still buried deep in him. He didn't want to move, think… His grip on the bench released, arms simply dropping. Eyes slid completely shut when warm and thin lips sucked at the tight tip of a nipple, trailing down before a tongue ran freely over where skin tingled from teeth. He would have a bruise, one that would leave him staring at himself in the mirror for days after.

Wesker was all but unreadable again, the spell of the moment broken when his cell phone in the locker started ringing.

Back in the shower, Brad just let the water run over him. It hadn't been bad. Hell, it had been good.

Unexpected…

He lofted a brow when Wesker joined him. The blond gestured with a single finger for the brunette to give him his back. The entire time, all Brad could think about was long fingers mapping him out again, exploring and taking as they pleased. His eyes slid shut when those same long fingers were in his hair, helping him back down off the dizzying height they'd climbed. He wanted more, so much more. His heart and its filthy desires were used to their iron cage, though. He turned, facing the taller man. Soft brown eyes dared to lift their stare and meet those dead blue stars.

Wesker said nothing, leaning in. The sharp line of his nose touched along the other's, a breath from thin edges meeting.

The brunette breached the gap, mouth fusing. A suddenly eager tongue rolled over lips before slipping past. He could taste everything. Long fingers encouraged his hands up and they found themselves lost in messy wet and blond strands. He pawed at it, rumpling it more. For a moment he was a ravenous thing, taking as he dared. Mind air and stomach full of butterfly wings. An arm looped to the nape of Wesker's neck, their fevers brought down as the frenzy slowed to deliberate… almost gentle.

A thumb stroked behind Brad's ear as the blond squeezed along the back of his neck. With that, he pulled away to wash himself up again.

* * *

"So… can I ask why?"

"You can."

Brad deadpanned, slipping a clean white shirt on. The RPD logo stenciled on the back disappeared under his vest as soon as he was tossing it over his shoulders. "…Why?"

The blond let out a sigh, slinging a black shirt over his shoulders. A moment passed before he responded, buttons going through eyelets. "You ever feel like an outsider in your own circles?"

"Constantly." The locker shut with ease, the dial given a spin before Brad stepped away from it. Bag and laptop left on the bench for the moment, he pitched his stare toward Wesker.

"So do I. That's why." Empty blue eyes settled on the gentle pair of mahogany ones peering up to him. "Not a word to anyone."

"Oh God, no. I already get interrogated enough by the girls about who I'm going to the movies with."

"You should go with them. It helps to have a social life when keeping up appearances."

"Appearances?"

"If you're going to continue doing this with me, you're going to have to maintain those." Dressed, he swiped up the laptop off the bench. "You'll finish this tomorrow. Have a good evening, Bradley."


End file.
